


Pistol-Whipped

by sawbones



Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Gun Kink, Gunplay, M/M, Masochism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 11:39:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10763490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sawbones/pseuds/sawbones
Summary: Reyes Vidal is captured by the Outcasts. They suspect he's more than an ordinary smuggler - but they don't know the half of it. Kaetus is sent to interrogate the prisoner, and finds out first hand exactly who they're dealing with.





	Pistol-Whipped

**Author's Note:**

> Much love and gratitude to [transcottryder](https://transcottryder.tumblr.com/) for being a genuinely helpful, constructive beta. Go follow him!

Kaetus wasn’t irritated by the absence of guards around the prisoner’s make-shift cell, not as much as he might have been once upon a time. Flakey mooks were a fact of life he’d been forced to accept on Kadara considering the labour pool was an ever shrinking mess polluted by every lay-about and troublemaker the Nexus had shat out. Anyone with any promise had been put to work doing something more important than guarding nobodies, or were already decomposing in one of the many sulphur lakes around the port. 

As he keyed in the short access code to the storage room, Kaetus made a mental note to find out who was supposed to be on the rota if he had time later. A broken finger or two was a wonderfully concise, time-efficient way to send a message to slacking employees. He supposed he could at least be thankful they had the brainpower to lock the door behind them before they disappeared.

The prisoner himself didn’t seem like he would have posed much of a threat even if the door had been unlocked, but Kaetus knew looks could be deceiving. He was on his knees on the far side of the room, half-slumped against some crates with his hands bound behind his back. He looked up when Kaetus entered; his face was mottled with bruises. His nose was bloodied, his mouth too. Even so, his eyes were bright and alert as he watched Kaetus approached.

Kaetus’ mandibles twitched. Humans could be so defiant. He imagined this one had been quite handsome before the butt of a rifle had rearranged his face.

“Shena, is it?” he asked, locking the door behind him.

“My friends call me Reyes,” the human said. He smiled wide enough to split the cut on his lip again and winced.

“I’m not your friend,” Kaetus said. 

“That’s a shame,” he said, letting his head bow again, “I think we would get on famously.”

Kaetus sighed. He hated the jokers. There was always one asshole who thought he could talk his way out of trouble. He unholstered his pistol and shoved the muzzle into the meat of Reyes’ cheek. The human inhaled sharply as he was forced to look up again, but otherwise managed to keep his cool. Not bad. That alone was enough to make some men beg for their mothers.

“Cut the shit, Shena,” he said, “We know you’re Collective. Pretty high up, judging by the lengths you went to hide your tracks. We know you’ve been working with the Angaran Resistance to undermine the Outcasts. I need you to start filling in the blanks.”

The human had the nerve to laugh, even if it was tight and breathless, “I’m not Collective, or Resistance. I’m a smuggler. I smuggle. I have no allegiance to anything but the credits. If the Outcasts weren’t such tight bastards, maybe I would be working with you. Perhaps we can still come to an arrangement.”

Kaetus lifted his pistol and shot one of the crates inches from Reyes’ head, making the human grunt in pain and surprise. He didn’t give him time to recover before he shoved it back in his face, hot gunmetal leaving a red welt on his already battered cheek, “Listen: you’ve got more spare body parts than I’ve got spare time, but I’m willing to take a gamble on which one of us stops this first. How about you? Save us both the drama and start telling me what I want to hear.”

“What do you want to hear? My rates?” Reyes said. He licked his lips, tongue probing at the sluggishly bleeding split. Kaetus’ jaws twitched in interest, and apparently it didn’t slip Reyes’ attention, “I do more than just smuggle if the price is right.”

“That how you get the name?” Kaetus sneered. There weren’t many angara in the Outcasts but there were enough, “Save it. You need a starting point? Give me your contacts.”

“I can’t give you what you need. Smuggling is all code-names and dead-drops,” Reyes said with a shrug, “Perhaps I can give you what you want, though.”

“What I  _ want _ is for you to stop fucking around,” Kaetus said. He moved the muzzle a little closer to Reyes’ mouth so that it was pressing against the bruised corner of his lips. His lashes fluttered a little at that. Was he one of those pain freaks or something? Kaetus clicked his teeth in disgust; that was the last thing he needed, he always felt like taking a scalding shower after dealing with guys like that and they didn’t have the water to spare on Kadara, “You’re not such a good actor, Shena. I know you’re not just some amateur crate runner.”

“You’re the right-hand man around here, aren’t you? Do you come to interrogate all the prisoners or am I just lucky?” Reyes asked. 

Kaetus snorted. Deflection tactics, and clumsy ones at that. Trying to buy himself some time, though he didn’t know what for: the Collective rarely followed through on their ‘one for all’ bullshit, especially if it meant fighting through an entire base of Outcasts. No-one would be coming for him. He was willing to wager Reyes knew that.

He smacked him across the face with the gun with enough force to send him sprawling awkwardly to the side. He pushed him back up with his foot and did it again, hard enough that Reyes actually cried out, “Feeling lucky yet?”

Reyes blinked hard, clearly dazed, but he still managed to grin through it. His teeth were pink with blood, “Heh, let me guess- it’s a human thing, right? Of course it is. Heard about you and Sloane--”

“You watch your tongue before I feed it to you,” Kaetus growled.

“She sent you here herself, didn’t she? That’s why you’re being such a gentlemen. Did she tell you to blow off a little steam? I can help with that,” Reyes went on, apparently determined to test exactly how gentlemanly Kaetus was feeling, “It’s the mouth - at least that’s what an old turian friend of mine told me once. Humans can do things with their mouths turians can only dr--”

Kaetus cocked his pistol. Reyes stopped talking. He glanced from the gun, back up to Kaetus and held his gaze. There it was again, that look: amber-eyed defiance. A challenge, almost. Slowly - so slowly - he parted his ruined lips and ran his tongue over the muzzle. 

Kaetus should have shot him then and there; he nearly did, his finger tightening on the trigger, but then Reyes did it again. He ran his tongue, pink and shiny, across the muzzle and up to the front sight before he carefully drew the barrel into his mouth. It was only then that he broke eye contact, closing his eyes with a soft moan like he was really getting off on it.

Kaetus felt his slit clench at the sight. He pushed his pistol forward without warning and enjoyed the way Reyes struggled to accommodate it, his cheeks hollowed, his brow furrowed. He kept his finger on his trigger, tapped his claw against the finger guard so Reyes would know, and he didn’t know which one of them got a bigger thrill from it. 

One slip of the finger, one spasm, one split-second of inattention, and they’d be scraping what was left of Reyes off the cargo crates. 

The human moaned again like he could read his thoughts; Kaetus obliged him by withdrawing the pistol slightly before pushing it even further in, fucking his abused mouth with the weapon until he was drooling, struggling to breath through his nose. His eyes were wet, the long lashes clumped together with unshed tears, but it seemed no matter how far down his throat Kaetus pushed the barrel, Reyes didn’t gag. 

It was too much. Kaetus pulled the gun right out of Reyes’ mouth, blood-streaked saliva smeared up the barrel, and tossed it on the floor. He deftly unhinged the pelvic plate of his armor and tossed that aside too before he drew his slick and leaking cock into his hand. Maybe the human had a point, maybe Sloane had sent him there to blow off steam - or maybe the human just had to mind his own business and keep his teeth out of the way like a good little hole.

With his free hand, Kaetus grabbed a fistful of the human’s short hair and pulled his mouth onto his cock, pushing past his lips and into his throat with no grace. He had enough control to stop his jaws flapping like a teenager but he couldn’t help the rumble of pleasure in his subvocals - the mouth really was the best part of a human, so soft and wet and warm. 

Even with such rough treatment, Reyes still did his best, still seemed to love it. He tried to roll his tongue along the underside of his shaft with every thrust, tried to create that soft vacuum no turian ever could. When he tried to push forward even further, wanting more, Kaetus grabbed him by the back of his head and shoved him all the way down until his nose ground against his pelvic plates. His shoulders shook as he struggled to breathe around the cock in his throat, but Kaetus didn’t relent. He rocked against his face roughly, carelessly, seeking friction and finding it; Reyes’ dark skin was flushed a deep undertone of red, though Kaetus didn’t know if it was lack of oxygen, arousal, or both.

Reyes moaned again, his eyes unfocused, bleary. Both, Kaetus decided. Definitely both.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the way the human’s supple lips stretched around his cock. He slid one of his claws from the base of it to press at the corner of his mouth, breaking the seal, stretching his bloody lips further as he pushed his digit in alongside. He trapped his tongue under his claw and watched him struggle as he forced him to open his mouth wider.

“Stay,” he hissed as he pulled out, and Reyes obeyed - not that he had a choice. He sat with his mouth open and his tongue out, watching Kaetus stroke himself with his free hand inches from his face. Kaetus kept his grip tight and his strokes short; he was close, and there was no reason to prolong it. He smeared his leaking tip across the fresh blooming bruise where he had pistolwhipped him and Reyes tried to flinch away. He couldn’t - not far enough, not when Kaetus was still holding him in place. The first splash of cum caught him across the bridge of his nose, the rest streaked his cheek, his waiting mouth. Even Shena couldn’t hide his grimace at the taste, but what did Kaetus care.

Both of them were left panting, but Kaetus was the first to recover. He tucked himself back into his undersuit and reattached the pelvic plate he had dropped. He stared down at Reyes: he looked like an absolute fucking mess. He cuffed him lightly on the side of the head, almost a ‘job well done’, and turned away to pace the cell.

“Now that’s out the way, don’t suppose you feel much like telling me who the fuck your contacts are already?” he asked, scrubbing a hand over his face. Reyes’ response was a raspy laugh.

“Forgive me. As fun as that was, I think it’s time for me to leave,” he said. Before Kaetus could spin back around to face him, he felt the cold hard muzzle of a gun pressed against the small of his back. The gun he had dropped. He spat a curse, “Give me your hands. Slowly, now. Turians are fast but not faster than a bullet.”

“You picked your cuffs,” Kaetus said, his teeth clicking in anger. He brought has hands behind him just as slowly as Reyes demanded. If he wasn’t fucking furious, he might have been impressed.

“Yes, about thirty seconds after they put me in here,” Reyes said. He sounded pleased with himself as he snapped the cuffs around Kaetus’ wrists one handed, “It took a  _ little _ longer to convince the guard to give me a drink of water, but I can be very convincing - don’t you agree? She’s behind these crates sleeping off a broken neck, in case you were wondering. On your knees.”

Kaetus knelt, not making any sudden moves. He didn’t need to give the human another excuse to knock the fringe right off him. Reyes skirted around him, careful to stay out of range of his legs even when he was in such a vulnerable position. He rolled his shoulders, probably trying to work the stiffness out of them, but he kept the pistol steady.

Kaetus lifted his chin in a challenge, “What now? You going to get your own back on the big bad turian?”

Reyes smiled. Then, he lowered the gun and stuck it into the belt of his flightsuit with a flourish and a wink, “Not today, my friend. Another time, perhaps. Send Sloane my love.”

Kaetus waited until the door shut behind Reyes before he gave a shout of frustration. He was alive and unharmed, and somehow that was worse than a gun to the face. 

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me at [space-mother](https://space-mother.tumblr.com/) for shitposting and gay Mass Effect goodness.


End file.
